Mesmerizing Eyes
by GaleSynch
Summary: Prequel to 'It Was Worth It'. Flashes of Shinkyou's past;Meeting Madara. Implied Itachi/Oc. One-shot.


"_Mother . . .?" A child, with silver-white hair, red eyes and pale skin called tentatively. Ever observant red eyes sweep around the empty kitchen, eyes looking for the familiar figure of her mother. But she saw none. She only smelt death._

_She stepped further into the kitchen. Everything looked intact, it looked as if her mother had not came in. The child nodded, satisfied that her mother wasn't here and had maybe went out in a hurry, so she has no time to notify her daughter before hand._

_Just as she turned to leave, the child caught sight of something glistening. The glare casted by the sun streamed through the window allowed the young girl no older than five see it. Slowly, she turned. She squinted her eyes, but the glimmering thing was still there, visible to her eyes._

_She approached, afraid that there might be danger there. The next step she took, she stepped on a puddle of warm, sticky liquid. This part of the kitchen was shielded in the shadows so she could not make out what was on the ground before her. Did mother spill something here? Had she forgot to clean up before leaving?_

_Frowning, she turned and walked to the kitchen table. In the middle of the table, there was a match and a candle. She lit the candle and pushed it to the edge. She wanted to see what was on the floor. It was curiosity._

_She walked around the table once more to where the puddle of sticky liquid was. Now that she think about it, it has a metallic scent to it. Wonder why?_

_When she got her answer; her eyes widened._

"_Mother?"_

_There, lying in a puddle of her own blood was her mother. Body pale at the loss of blood; eyes dead to the world wide in shock; hands and body covered in her own blood. The blood came from her chest, which was embedded with a kunai. Her throat has a clean cut on it as well._

"_Mother!" The child cried. Shaking, her hands reached out for the murder weapon. Shakily, she pulled out the kunai; more blood seeped out of the wound. _

_The child did know what to do. She screamed in fear. She lived in an era of war, she had heard of death; had smelt it; had seen it. She knew what had happened to her mother._

_She ran. Tears flowing freely._

* * *

Shinkyou's eyes snapped opened. It was just a dream, just a dream. She realized. A dream from her childhood. Her hands reached out to clutch the necklace handing around her neck; the necklace that she wouldn't part with no matter what.

It was her mother's. The only family she ever had in the past. Past. It was . . . like, eight or nine decades ago now. But she still couldn't bring herself to forget it. To forget that day. It was officially her most horrid time of life.

Then there was that other memorable time as well. The time she first met Madara. Her only father figure in life.

It was something she did not want to forget; unlike the memory in her dream.

* * *

_She did not know what to do. It's been days, a week perhaps since the death of her mother. She has been living in the streets, trying to find someone that her mother told her to. She was dead so she didn't exactly tell her; it was in a will, something that told Shinkyou what to do once her mother was dead. It would only be used in emergency._

_She was to find her father and possibly live with him. The father that left her and her mother. She wasn't sure she even wanted to live with him. He should be easy to fine, Shinkyou reasoned. She got her father's looks, odd and rare features. Not many has that so he should be easy to find._

_She had asked around, trying to find information on him. The only that matched her description was a man named, Senju Tobirama. The only information her mother had on him was his name, Tobirama, no clan name when he introduced himself to her._

_But she didn't know how to find such a prestigious man. Being the brother of the founder of Konoha, made him and his clan famous; he himself was a great ninja._

_Shinkyou jumped, startled when a loud commotion was heard. She saw a man punch a wall. He noticed her the same time she did._

_Spinning pupils in red orbs burned into her equally red fiery orbs. The man has long spiky black hair in contrast to her short silver-white hair; skin as pale as hers; he wore majestic armor and clothes, unlike her ragged kimono; he was tall and strong looking, she was short and scrawny looking._

_His red eyes narrowed the same hers widened. "What are you looking at!" He demanded. His tone was a low baritone, voice carrying an underweight of hidden threat and danger._

_She shook her head, terrified. "N-Nothing," She muttered, backing out of the alley way where the man was glaring holes at the web-liked damage he did on the wall._

"_Then get out of here!" He snapped._

_Terrified, but strangely curious, she ran off._

_Back then, neither of them know that they would be as close as real family in the future._

_It all started when the note she dropped piqued Madara's interest. He picked it up and that had been what tied their fates together._

* * *

Shinkyou stood up, and smoothed her clothes when she heard someone knocking on her door. No surprise—or any other reaction—showed on her face when she was broken out of her reverie suddenly.

She knew who it was even before she opened the door. She looked up into the eyes carrying the doujutsu feared by all. The mighty Mangekyou Sharingan. It was eerily similar to her master's but it's pupil are different.

The one she was looking into belonged to one Uchiha Itachi. The one she had been reminiscing about belonged to Uchiha Madara. But, Itachi's Sharingan never fail to mesmerize her. Just as its owner never fail to mesmerize her.

"Is there something you need, Itachi?" Shinkyou asked softly. She knew that if she kept quiet, he would not speak unless it was urgent. He was more stubborn than her—which was something that had made her interested in him in the first place.

"We have a mission," Itachi replied monotonously. Eyes boring into her red eyes which has dulled in time. It was no longer fiery red or as crimson as a Sharingan's. It was now dull and blank, eyes that looked dead; they held no emotion. Wistfully, he wondered how her own pools of blood had once looked like.

"You and me only?" Shinkyou asked. As she was talking, she walked out of the room, closing the doors.

"And Kisame." Itachi supplied. He turned and walked off, leaving Shinkyou to follow after him.

"Do me a favor."

"Which is?"

* * *

_Shinkyou's eyes widened but she still kept her mouth shut. Her supposed father, was in a ceremony that she recognized as marriage. To a woman that was not her mother. He abandoned them; her mother and her._

_She got nothing to say. Maybe her father did not even know of her existence. So_—

"_So you're his bastard child," A sinister, familiar baritone resounded from behind her. She turned, with dread. _

_To look into those red pools that seemed to drown her in its depths._

"_Y-You're that guy from the alley way," She said. "The one that punched the wall." She backed away, afraid of the man before her._

_The man's lips curled. "Yes, in the flesh." His eyes flitted from the girl before him to the man known as Senju Tobirama. "Your father," He sneered. "abandoned you I see."_

"_He didn't even know I exist," Shinkyou said, voice full of hatred and bitterness._

_She had kept her head down, therefore, she did not see the eyes of the man before her. Eyes full of malice; lips curling into a sneer of victory._

"_What's your name?" Surprisingly, he was the one that asked._

"_Shinkyou." The girl child replied softly, but he heard it anyway. "What about you?"_

"_Uchiha Madara is my name, child."_

* * *

Itachi didn't falter a step. "Which is?"

"Look at me." He didn't turn to look at her.

"Why?"

"You're never coming back again." She stated bluntly. "I know you."

". . ." He didn't say anything. But to those that knew him, a silence mostly meant a yes.

". . . Just one last time."

When she looked into his eyes, there was no Sharingan in sight. Just ebony pools, in contrast to his pale complexion. It may not be the unique crimson pools she craved to see . . .

. . . but it worked just fine.

His eyes were mesmerizing to her no matter what, because it was him.


End file.
